The Stranded
by Kryptonian-Suckerpunch
Summary: (Set at the beginning of The Scorch Trials.) Newt went to bed in a dorm full of Gladers. Penny went to bed in a dorm empty besides herself. They wake up together with no explanation how, only that they'll be stuck there for awhile. The Glader and the defensive quiet girl become something that WICKED couldn't have dreamed of creating.
1. Meeting the Mystery

He had gone to bed in the dormitory full of Gladers. He was certain of this, but despite that; Newt woke up in an almost empty room.

Almost.

Newt's eyes shot open as a scream tore him from his sleep. A feminine scream. Now, some Gladers had some 'puberty-is-ninety-percent-complete' voices, but never a scream that girly.

Falling from a bed in a hurry, Newt was half ready to spring up from his feet and fight off whatever was causing the scream. It took him a moment for remember that he wasn't still in the Maze; he was safe. For now.

As safe as anyone can be when a girl stood over him, knife in her hands and ready to swing.

"Who the bloody hell are you?!" Newt shouted, looking up at the girl that stood over him. She was small, mousy looking with a long-ish face. Her eyes were locked on him, wide grey orbs that looked as if they'd seen it all. Freckles smattered her fair skin like paint, a mess of curly red hair that she somehow tamed into a high ponytail. Her expression was hard, but every feature on her face was soft and rounded. None of that caught Newt's attention as much as the knife she held in her hands.

"I s-should ask y-you the same thing!" the girl shouted back at him, voice unsteady as if she hadn't talked in weeks. "I g-go to bed a-alone and wake u-up with your shlem s-self in my r-room." The girl continued, grip tightening on the dagger.

Newt gave her a puzzled look before shrugging it off. She must've had her own language, just as Newt and the Gladers had. But that wasn't the main concentration of his focus.

"So did I!" Newt yelled back at her, holding his hands up to show he meant no harm. He wanted to look around the room for any sign that the Gladers had been here, but he was afraid that would come off as suspicious and that she'd take a swipe at him. The girl, white knuckling her dagger, didn't budge. She glared at him with as much fury as someone at a five foot frame could have.

"Well n-now you found y-your danky a-ass in my room!" She yelled into his face as if this was his fault. The girl lowered her dagger, instead pointing it at the boy's throat. "S-so you b-better start t-talking," she taunted, giving the blade slightly more pressure. "Or i'll skin y-you, Narc"

Newt had no idea what she was actually saying. _Shlem? Danky? Narc?_ What the bloody hell was this girl even talking about?  
Her stutter made her seem less threatening, but that didn't shine over the fact that she had a knife at his throat.

Newt couldn't even think where to begin. He was just as confused as she was. He went to bed in a room full of the Gladers that survived the Final Stand at the Maze, and now he was alone with this psycho. Newt told her his story, the main parts anyways, about the Maze and coming back with the saviors and the Gladers. She listened, not showing a single emotion on her face.

"I don't b-believe a w-word you're s-saying," She told him defensively, though the tip of the knife lessened pressure from his throat. Newt tried not to look relieved. Something in her eyes told Newt that there was more than just suspicion in her system.

She looked at him, almost wildly. "Why a-aren't you c-changing?" She asked, a slight hint of fear creeping into her tone. Newt blinked at her.

"Bloody hell you mean? Change into a shuckin' unicorn?"

The girl didn't answer. The knife pressed slightly harder into his throat. "You're a N-narc!" She shouted, voice nearly cracking at the last word. Whoever she was, she talked about 'Narcs', whatever they were, the same way the Gladers talked about Grievers. "Narcs s-show what t-they want, a-and then they b-bag you," She continued, voice hardening. The look in her eyes vanished into a cold, hard whirlwind of grey pooling into his own eyes. "I t-thought I was d-done with you. Why haven't y-you changed?" She snapped, annoyance flooding her tone.

"Maybe because I'm not a bloody Narc!" Newt snapped back, still holding his hands up. This girl, whoever she was, was the most untrusting person he'd ever met. To be honest, he understood where she was coming from. He didn't trust her either, after everything that had happened at the Maze with the Creators and their stupid Variables. Whatever experience she had with these 'Narcs' couldn't be too far off from how he felt about Grievers.

All understanding aside, he wasn't a bloody Narc. How could he prove that to her? Especially with the knife at his throat?

Newt cleared his throat. After being at the Glade, he'd learnt how to talk his way out of tricky situations with people who appeared to be unstable. "Look, I don't know what a Narc is. Some kind of monster?" He asked. The girl looked momentarily shocked, covering it up with a scowl. "The w-worst kind" She answered him, not knowing that she had given a piece of herself to the boy in front of her.

Newt nodded gently. Maybe he could get somewhere, now. "I've had my fair share of monsters, too. Bloody Grievers. The Creators did it to me. To my people"

The girl swallowed a lump in her throat. If he was speaking the truth, then who knows how many people he had to fall back on? She couldn't help but to feel a pang of jealously. She'd been by herself for three years, and this guy had possibly a whole army of friends?

Slowly, she lowered the knife from his throat, stepping back so he could stand. Newt obliged, rising slowly as to not startle her. His frame was a full head and a half taller than her, but she kept the same defensive scowl.

Now that he was standing, a new feature of her's became clear. A scar starting at the left side of her chin; Newt's eyes tracing it from there all the way down her neck and ending at her collar bone. He and all the Gladers had their fair share of scars and cuts, but he'd never seen anything like that.

The girl must've noticed his stare, because she placed a hand on her neck and scoffed. "J-just because I b-believe you d-doesn't mean I trust y-you, Danker" She snapped, balling a fist at her side. Newt scowled right back at her.

The two stood silent for awhile. Newt took the opportunity to look around the room. It seemed to be the same dormitory that he had slept the night before, except every bed (besides his and one across the room) were untouched. Newt took in the room before resting his gaze back at her, only to see that she was already looking at him. She wasn't just staring; she was studying. Almost gaping, as if she hadn't seen another human before.

"Newt," He told her, shrugging. "I'd give you a handshake, but i'm pretty shucking sure you'll chop it off"

The slightest hint of a smile appeared on her face, but it vanished as quickly as it came; the scar rising up and then falling into place as she did so. Newt was about to ask her for her name before she spoke up.

"Penny" She told him, voice much smaller than before. It was hard to believe that a voice as hard as earlier and a voice as small as now could belong to the same girl. Then again, he didn't know much about her. When she spoke, words stumbled awkwardly from her tongue, like talking was something foreign and odd to her. Judging by her expression when he mentioned the Creators, Newt figured that whatever happened to her in the past was one of WICKED's workings. He almost felt bad for her, but why should he feel bad for a suspicious stranger who held a knife to his throat just moments before? 'Stab-first-questions-later' type people weren't people that Newt fancied being around.

Newt nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. "So I told you about that shank Maze, now where did you come from?" He knew it was a risky question. If it wasn't for the knife at his throat and the threat to skin him, Newt wouldn't have been to joyous to talk about his experiences at the Maze. It was only a day ago. How could that be? It felt like a lifetime ago, but the memories were still as clear as glass.

An indifferent look fell upon her facial expressions as Penny remained silent. Newt couldn't help but feel a bit annoyed at her constant pauses, but speech didn't seem too easy for her, and he knew first-hand that talking about Trials wasn't easy by a long shot. Her face kept the look of indifference, but her eyes were a tell-all. Her grey eyes swirled with hesitance, thinking hard; probably about whether or not she could trust Newt. After another minute of silence from Penny's end, Newt was sure he wouldn't get an answer._ Fine,_ he thought, _why do I need to know more bloody stuff those WICKED shanks did?_ But then again, if he knew where she was from, maybe it could help him figure out where the Gladers were and how these two ended up together during the night.

Newt didn't expect an answer and was about to ask her if she remembered anything suspicious about the night before when Penny spoke up. Her grey eyes seemed to dull, facial expression doing the same. The one sentence seemed to cause a visible deteriation in her mood. Newt felt a bit bad for being annoyed at her silence. Her voice was tight and tense, and she didn't stutter a single word that had fallen from her tongue.

"I came from the Stranded"


	2. That Bloody Shuckin' Door

Newt blinked at the girl. The other Gladers had theorized that there had been other types of experiments, possibly hundreds, but actually meeting someone from another didn't seem like a possibility.

Penny absent mindledly ran a hand from the scar's beginning at her chin and down her neck, hand lingering at her collar bone. Her eyes looked faraway, void of the expression it always seemed to take when her face wouldn't. Newt couldn't help but become a bit concerned that she'd slip into a psycho-coma or have a freak out like Ben had.

"Now the real question is," Newt broke the silence, looking around the dormitory. "Is how we both got stuck in here"

Penny nodded, snapping out of whatever daze she was in before and looking about the room quickly. Her eyes scanned every crevice with extreme precision, nothing seemed to miss her vision. "No w-windows, o-one door, one b-bathroom," She reported to him, voice a bit shakier than it had been earlier. No doubt that mentioning whatever the Stranded was had messed with her head. Newt didn't have time for that, though, because he wanted out.

"I'm bloody starving. Couldn't we have gotten our shuck-selves locked in the kitchen?" He grumbled, more to himself than to Penny. Penny cocked her head in confusion. "Shuck?" She asked, furrowing her brows. Newt sighed in annoyance. "We're locked in here, and you're interested in my bloody dialect?" He snapped, heading towards the door.  
Penny scoffed, but didn't answer him. Newt couldn't help but smirk at that. She wasn't half the smart-aleck she tried to come off as. Newt surveyed the door, but there wasn't much to see. Made of hard steel, large doorknob, locked. The idea of plowing through it was erased from possibilities. He banged his fist on the surface, pressing his ear to it as well. Solid, and probably sound proof, because he couldn't hear a thing.

"Well, we're shuckin' locked in," Newt turned to face his new roomie, who quickly averted her gaze to her shoes. Newt was confused for a moment before he realized she had been staring at him. Again. What was this girl's deal? She wasn't ogling, but that didn't make it any less weird.

"I know i'm a handsome laddie, but whatcha doing looking at me every six seconds?" He asked, cracking a laugh. Penny looked up at him, face serious. She was silent for a moment before Newt realized that she didn't understand that it was a joke. This girl was getting weirder and weirder by the minute.

"You're a d-dinker," She mumbled under her breath, pushing past him and surveying the door again. She, obviously, had come to the same conclusion as Newt did. Pressing her back against the cold surface of the door, Penny sighed. "W-we are s-stuck in here" She grumbled, slouching down onto the floor.

"Gee, thanks for that. I had no shuckin' idea" Newt grumbled back at her, sitting down on one of the empty beds. Penny scoffed, looking away from him and fiddling with her fingers. "The w-worst part? I'm s-stuck with you" She snapped, words like acid. Newt chuckled bitterly at her remark, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, because I love being stuck with a whiny girl!"

Penny's jaw tightened and she looked at him, anger clouding her grey eyes, but she said nothing. Newt, pleased with yet another victory against her, stood quiet as well. It being quiet gave both of them time to think.

Newt knew, though it pleased him, that arguing with her wasn't doing either of them any good. His stomach ached for food, but also for the comfort and familiarity of the Gladers. Yeah, they were shanks, but they were his family. He knew them, they knew him. This girl? He knew next to nothing about her, and he wasn't exactly itching to find out more. Even though she seemed to be another one of WICKED's experiments, he didn't trust her. Judging by the blatant look of annoyance and the constant watching, she didn't trust Newt much either.

"This is bloody pointless" Newt spoke up after a moment, rubbing his eyes. "Sitting here like shanks and arguing over everything isn't going to get us out of her"

Newt waited for her reply. Penny didn't say anything, but she offered a nod. Pulling herself up on her feet, the girl stretched a bit before facing him. It was then that Newt realized how skinny she was. He'd seen Gladers of all shapes and sizes, but he'd never seen someone so skinny. Her arms were practically spaghetti noodles, legs sticking out from her shorts like sticks. If Penny noticed his looks, she didn't let on.

"I d-don't know what we're s-supposed to d-do," She began, words coming out slowly. Talking obviously wasn't her forte. "The o-only thing I c-can think of is a-another dank trial" She continued, eyebrows furrowed in thought. As much as Newt liked contradicting her, she had a point. This was all too weird to be anything but WICKED.

"Aren't we supposed to be done with those shanks? That's why we're here, right?" He thought aloud, running his hands through his hair. His mind flew with thoughts of what could be possibly going on, but he couldn't settle on anything definite. He knew too little about their situation for there to even be a theory that could be correct.

"What's a s-shank?" Penny asked, to which Newt groaned. "Haven't we been through this? Save your bloody vocab questions for later, we have other problems here shuck-face"

"Now w-what's a shuck face?"  
"You aren't getting my point"  
"You aren't g-giving me a p-point to get!"

And the two would've continued to bicker if a tiny slot hadn't opened at the bottom of the door and left two pieces of bread.

"The door!" Newt yelled, up from the bed and at the door within seconds. He kneeled down in front of the door, eyes wide. Penny stood behind him, surveying the door over his shoulder. "Bloody shank! I know you were there!" Newt yelled, pounding his fist on the door where the slot had appeared. He and Penny both saw the slot open, but there was no sign of it on the door. No outline, not even the faintest line that gave it away.

Newt turned to Penny, who was already gaping at him in shock. "You s-saw that t-too, right?" She asked, voice a pitch higher than usual. "'Course I bloody saw it. How could I miss it?" He grumbled, pounding his hand on the door one more time. He didn't mean to snap at Penny, though he enjoyed that. He was mad at the door, frustrated at the impossibility of the slot.

"No p-point in g-gaping," Penny spoke up after a moment, moving past him and swiping one piece of bread from the floor, retreating back to the closest bunk. "The shank could come back, leave something else" Newt replied, sitting criss crossed in front of the door like a dog waiting for it's owner's return. Penny rolled her eyes, eagerly munching at her slice of bread. "Have f-fun with that, D-dink"

Newt waited there for about half an hour before he gave up and snatched the remaining piece of bread from the floor. He didn't want to eat anything to do with the shank that handed it over, but his stomach whined and growled in protest. He'd eaten plenty of meals at the Glade made with supplies from the Creators, and those were never poison. He'd just have to take his chances with this one.

He finished the piece of bread in minutes. His stomach still whined for more, but he knew he could last on just that piece for now. Hopefully, there'd be more. Hopefully he'd be able to figure out how the slot could seemingly disappear.

He sat there for hours, but nothing happened. Penny didn't speak, and he didn't bother looking back to check on her. Newt couldn't risk missing the slot open up again. Penny, who got bored with watching Newt, took a nap on the closest bunk. Sleep didn't come easy, but it came sure enough. The feeling of seeing a person, an actual person, not a Narc, was still buzzing in her head. Why'd it have to be such a dink like Newt?

Penny was still suspicious and untrusting of her forced roommate. She had been through so much with the WICKED, she should've known that all of that suddenly being over was too good to be true. But what could the WICKED practically do with her and Newt? Maybe this was another trial. Survival of the fittest, maybe. Seeing which one would snap and kill the other, which one would fall prey to the other: it was sick, but it wasn't impossible. Her past three years goes to show that underestimating WICKED's ability to do sick things was a horrible mistake.

Despite all that, the girl was tired. She traced her scar up and down her neck as she rested her eyes, half waiting to hear Newt come near her bed and try to strangle her or something. He didn't seem like a murderer, but who knows what else could've gone on in that Maze he talked about. Who knows what it did to his mind?

Newt's eyes had begun to hurt from staring in the same spot for hours. He hesitantly rubbed his eyes, doing it quickly enough in case the slot opened up again. He was beginning to doubt this thing would open again, but he needed something to keep him busy. Talking to Penny only caused problems, as if he would actually want to. Something was off about that girl, and he didn't like it. The way she could barely speak, the way she would stare, the way she traced that scar, the way she refused to tell him anything about her experiment besides it's name… all of these were red flags to the Glader.

As if on cue, he heard Penny's voice from behind him.

"Y-you're still s-sitting there?" She asked, a yawn punctuating her sentence. Newt rolled his eyes, though she couldn't see him. Of course she'd been sleeping. "Well you're being such a bloody help" He grumbled.

Penny scoffed. "I u-understand y-your dank brain is t-too small to s-stare a door w-without help, but it's p-pointless," She told him, sarcasm in her tone. "You're pissy when you wake up" He retorted, eyes not moving from the door.

"You're i-impossible," She snapped, the sound of the mattress creaking indicating that she'd gone back to sleep.

His own eyes felt heavy, and blinking no longer carried away the feeling sleepiness. No, he told himself harshly, you're going to watch this door and get yourself out of here.

And that was the last thing Newt thought before slowly falling to the side, drifting to sleep right in front of the door he so dutifully stared at for hours on end.


	3. Some Kind of Sick Joke

Newt awoke in front of the door with two slices of bread by the side of his head.

"Bloody hell!" Newt exclaimed, sitting up and slamming his hand on the door in frustration. "I shuckin' missed it" Newt grumbled to himself, rubbing his stiff neck with annoyance. He had been so careful, and he missed it.

He heard Penny mumble something behind him, but he didn't bother to ask. Her voice was so small and quiet that he wouldn't have heard it if it wasn't silent in the room. "Breakfast is up," he grumbled sarcastically, looking back at her. Her hair was a messy tundra around her head, curls seemingly gone wild as she slept. Her eyes were much more vibrant from the sleep she'd received. Newt had never seen eyes so interesting.

Interesting eyes for a boring girl, he snapped in his thoughts. They'd survived one night, but that didn't change anything between them. He didn't like how she stared at him all the time, as if waiting for him to perform a trick or something.

Penny stood up and stretched. Her being so skinny, Newt was surprised her spine didn't snap in half. He expected her to walk over for her slice of bread, but she walked past him without acknowledgement. "Where are you going?" He asked her, raising an eyebrow. She turned and sighed in annoyance, as if stopping to talk to him was a hardship. "Taking a s-shower," She replied, pulling the bathroom door open.

"Unlike y-you, I d-don't prefer to s-stink"  
"Unlike your rotten personality, shank!" He yelled back to her as she disappeared through the door. She didn't answer, and the only reply Newt received was the shower turning on.

Newt munched on his bread in silence. His neck was stiff and his back ached from his slumber on the floor, but he didn't care about that. All he cared about was figuring out a way to get out of this room. The Maze was no walk in the park, but compared to the little information he had about this situation? He'd take the Maze over no information any day. He tried to think of a way out, but there was nothing to think about. The only 'Variables' he could think of was being stuck with Penny, who he still couldn't trust. Newt, frustrated with the current situation, let himself fall into his thoughts. Better than sitting around and doing nothing.

Newt had been sitting in one of the beds for roughly twelve minutes, drifting in and out of his own thoughts when he heard the unmistakable sound of the door slot opening.

Newt was out of bed within a single second, snapped from his thoughts as if they never happened in the first place. He jogged to the door as fast as his limpy run could take him, diving at the floor just as the slot had closed.

Fuming in frustration from his close call with the slot, Newt punched at the floor repeatedly. The slot in the door was bothering him to no end, and coming so close to it was not helping the cause. He felt completely helpless, just as he did when he first arrived to the Glade. That was two years ago, but the feelings of disorientation and confusion was still fresh in his head.

Looking down, he realized that the slot hadn't brought more bread: it brought a folder.  
A folder marked 'The Stranded'.

Newt immediately tensed. Seeing how Penny reacted by merely saying the name of the experiment, he knew she wouldn't react well to a whole folder about it. His fingers dusted over the folder and it's contents, having mixed feelings on whether or not he should open it. His curiosity had urged him to open it, but it didn't feel right. If Penny had gotten a folder marked 'The Maze', he wasn't sure he'd want her to open it without him knowing first. But what did he care about her? They were forced to be in this room together, but that didn't mean he actually cared about what happened to her.

Still; opening it didn't feel right, no matter how much his curiosity had screamed for him to do so. Folder still in hand, Newt got up and opened the bathroom door without a second thought.

The room was enveloped in steam, and for a moment, Newt was confused. Till he remembered that-

Uh-oh.

Fortunately for him, she was facing away from him and had a towel wrapped around her. Unfortunately for him, she had saw his face through the mirror, immediately whipping around and clutching the towel closer to her.

"Perv!" She screamed, loud voice bouncing off the walls. Newt was surprised to find that he was tongue tied. He wanted to look away but his eyes remained on her in surprise. "I thought that I should-" He began, but whatever sentence he was going to form was cut off by Penny shrieking again.

"Get o-out!" She shouted, pulling her towel up higher. Newt wasn't quite sure, but her face seemed as red as her hair. "We got a folder-"

"Why a-are you s-still here? I'm n-naked!" She yelled at him as if it wasn't already evident, anger building in her voice with each word. Newt couldn't find any words, as if he momentarily had forgotten to speak. His own attitude was surprising him. He'd showered with other Gladers around before, but this was… different.

"What's that on your shoulder?" He asked pointing at the mark on her right shoulder blade. "What? G-get out!?" She replied, ignoring his question and pushing him out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Newt stumbled back, blinking at the door before shaking his head, as if shaking off his surprise.

"Girls" He scoffed, and looked down at the folder in his hands.

Newt, despite his temptations, waited for Penny to come out of the bathroom before opening it. After seven minutes, she finally came out, an awkward feeling in the air following her as she did so.

Why Newt felt so weird, he didn't seen plenty of shuck-headed Gladers in towels, what was the difference between them and Penny? Well… three differences, but it's not like he paid attention to those features. The only thing that caught his attention was the mark on her shoulder, something black, possibly lettering. Newt sat down on the closest bed and tried to look anywhere but at her.

"What's the m-matter? Didn't c-catch the glimpse y-you were hoping f-for?" Penny snapped, sitting down on the bed across from him. Her hair hung down her face, dripping droplets of water down her face and onto her shirt. Newt scowled at her, but he couldn't think of anything to say. "Don't bloody flatter yourself, it was an accident, shank" He replied after a minute, but his heart wasn't into it.

His mind was focused on the folder in his hands. Maybe it had some information about how to get out of here? Why they were stuck in there?

"What's t-that?" Penny asked, finally taking notice to it in his hands. Newt looked at her for the first time since she sat down, but her eyes were already on him. Her eyes seemed even stormier than usual, fixated on the folder in his hands. She hadn't seen the name but there was something in her expression that seemed to dread what it was.

Newt swallowed a lump in his throat. "Am I your errand boy? Look for yourself"  
Penny scoffed, grabbing the folder from his hands and looking at it.

All the color drained from her face.  
"Is this y-your idea of a-a joke?" Penny snapped, looking back at him with a infuriated expression. "Why are you shuckin' getting mad at me? I didn't shove it through the bloody slot" Newt snapped back. Why was she blaming him? She was bloody ridiculous.

Penny tore her eyes away from him and back down at the folder. Newt tried to read her expression, but she looked emotionless. Vacant, almost.

"Where'd y-you find t-this?" She asked, her voice was impossibly small, almost inaudible. "Where do you think?" He replied in an annoyed tone. Penny didn't answer. She rose from her seat, folder not yet opened but still in her hands, and marched to the bathroom door. "What the hell are you doing?" He asked, following behind her.

Penny didn't show any evidence that she heard him at all. She swung the bathroom door open with all her force, whipping the toilet lid open and kneeling down in front of it.

"Fucking dankers!" She screamed, her sudden volume making Newt jump. She held the file in her hands and started ferociously ripping it, screaming insults and curses as she did so. "I hate them!" She tossed piece after piece of the file into the toilet, Newt not knowing what to do besides stand in behind her and watch.

"They're sick!" She wailed, ripping the folder into as many pieces as she possibly could. "Sick fucking dankers!" She didn't stutter, the only fault in her voice being that her words were slurring together. Her shoulders heaved, and Newt realized that she was sobbing. Gladers, usually Greenies, cried sometimes, but never anything as bad as this.

Once the file couldn't be ripped up anymore and the shredded contents floated in the toilet, Penny began beating her hands on the sides of the toilet. If the porcelain had hurt her hands at all, she didn't show it. Newt's tactic with crying Gladers was to crack a joke and leave them to themselves, but he knew that wouldn't work in this situation. Penny wasn't crying like a Greenie about to klunk in their pants; she was hysterical.

"Oy, knock it off!" Newt yelled over the noise, not sure if she could actually hear him. If she replied, Newt wasn't able to tell through the sobbing. She continued to beat her hands on the toilet, punching anything in sight. Newt couldn't tell exactly, but her knuckles appeared to be bleedy. She didn't show any sign that she'd noticed or that she'd be stopping anytime soon.

"Shuck-Head!" He yelled, trying to grab at one of her arms, but she whipped around too fast for him to grasp her. Her words were incomprehensible, but the words Newt caught every now and then were nothing short of colorful and fueled with hatred. "Penny!" He yelled, the name odd on his tongue.

Droplets of blood from her hands swung through the air and hit Newt's face. He couldn't let her do this, she'd get herself seriously hurt. Newt dropped to his knees and seized her from behind, pulling her away from the toilet with all his strength. Her being so skinny had worked in his favor, but her hands and feet flailing definitely wasn't an advantage. Her elbows jabbed into his chest and her wild fists beat against his arms as she tried to wiggle from his grasp, feet kicking furiously away from him.

Newt successfully pulled her out of reach from the toilet, pressing his back against the half closed shower door. "Will you bloody quit the screaming!?" He screamed over the noise to her, but her wailing resumed along with the kicking and punching. Her elbow swung back and slammed his nose, almost breaking it. "Stop!" He commanded, but she showed no sign of hearing him.

Penny may have been tiny, but trying to hold her writhing frame was beginning to become laborious to the Glader. The punches and kicks weren't exactly helping the cause either. She shown no sign of stopping, or getting worse as she continued. "Penny!" He shouted, but his protests were in vain.

Newt pulled the shower door open and scooted inside, the floor still wet from Penny's shower earlier. Tightening his grip of the flailing girl as best he could, Newt felt around his head for the shower dial. Grunting as he struggled to contain her, Newt felt the dial in his hands and turned it, cold water raining down from above and soaking them within seconds.

Penny screamed and writhed in his lap for another minute or two before she finally stopped. She didn't speak, but Newt didn't care. She could've started singing and he wouldn't care: anything was better than her screaming her throat raw.

They stood there till the cold water had drenched them to the bone. When Penny had begun shaking in his lap, Newt reached a hand up and turned the shower dial back the other direction. The water cut off and the only sound that filled the shower chamber were their heaving breaths.


	4. Dankers Need Their Beauty Sleep

It was an unspoken agreement hours later that they wouldn't talk about what happened.

They sat in the shower chamber, drenched and shaking for another half hour before Penny silently rose to her feet and flushed the contents of the ripped file down the toilet. Penny traced the scar up and down her neck as she watched the shreds swirl down the toilet bowl and out of sight. Newt got up from the floor minutes after her, rubbing his temples. A headache from her screaming was fresh and building up from behind his eyes.

Newt examined himself in the mirror. His nose was bent slightly to the left, but it didn't appear broken. He washed stray droplets of blood from his face using the sink before walking back into the main room.

Penny was kneeling in front of the door. "Magic slot bring us anything?" Newt asked in an attempt to joke, but it didn't feel right. Penny didn't answer, only holding another slice of bread out to him. Newt didn't like the look in her eyes. He figured she would look angry, sad, devastated even; but her eyes were emotionless. Vacant of any expression as if nothing happened. That should be good. Hey, now whiny and emotional girl to deal with, right? Wrong. Something was definitely wrong about that look.

He grabbed the bread and nodded at her, but she didn't reply. The room being so quiet was unnerving; he almost wished she was back to being sarcastic and snippy. That was much easier to deal with than her being quiet and emotionless.

After twenty minutes of silence, Penny spoke up. "Why w-would they g-give that to u-us?" She asked, voice barely above a whisper. "How should I know? Those shanks are twisted in their bloody heads," He replied, shrugging. Penny sat with her back against the bathroom door, her hair falling over her face. Her skin was much more pale than it was earlier, her scar sticking out with an odd grey coloring.

"I d-don't understand why w-we're here," She mumbled, staring at her lap.  
"Tell me something I don't know"  
It got quiet again.

"Did I d-do that?" Penny asked, motioning towards her nose. Newt instinctively reached up and felt his own; it ached a bit, but nothing major. "Yeah. You got one shuckin' punch"

Penny smiled faintly at this, the same smile as last time: gone in a second, the only sign it was actually there being the slight rise and fall of the scar's tip. She paused again, gaze continuing to sit on her lap.

"You d-didn't have to d-do that"  
"What?"  
"Pulling me a-away"

Newt raised an eyebrow at this. If he'd gone psycho, he would want someone to pull him away before he broke his fingers.

"Well I ain't going to bloody leave you there," he shrugged again. This conversation was becoming a bit too personal for his liking, and it was making him a bit uncomfortable. Leave it to a girl to make a conversation so sappy.

"I could've h-handled it m-myself" She replied, tracing her thumb up and down the scar again. It was a familiar gesture and she'd done it many times, but Newt didn't want to ask her about it. Much too personal.

Newt scoffed. "Yeah, you woulda bloody snapped your fingers off if it wasn't for me"

Penny didn't answer. He took her silence as an agreement. No way could she have 'handled' it herself without seriously injuring herself in some way. "Your hands?" He asked, earning a confused look from her for a moment before she understood his question. "Oh, f-fine. Just a l-little raw" She answered, holding her hands up.

Her knuckles were bright red, skin ripped harshly on her middle and ring fingers. Droplets of dried blood were dotted over her hands just like her freckles were with her cheeks. Her idea of 'just fine' didn't exactly fit normal standards. Newt rolled his eyes. "Nope, i'm not bloody dealing with your whiny ass when you get a bloody infection," He told her in a snarky tone, rising from his bed and looking around. At the nightstand next to him, he found a pen and a piece of paper.

"What are y-you doing?" Penny asked, raising an eyebrow at him and rising from her seat on the floor. Newt didn't answer, simply scribbling 'bandaids' on the slip of paper and leaving it in front of the door. He and the other Gladers had done this a few times; leaving a request or suggestion in the Box for the next week's supply drop. This wasn't exactly the same thing, but it was worth a shot. Not that Newt cared what happened to her, of course not… but why should he have to listen to her whine and maybe even contract that 'Flare' disease through the wounds?

Newt didn't care about her. Not by a long shot. That's what he told himself, at least.

Newt explained to Penny the meaning behind placing the paper by the slot. She was skeptical, but went along with it. Something on her face hinted that she was thinking about something, something Newt wouldn't possibly understand, but he didn't push her or even ask about it at all. After the event in the bathroom earlier, he didn't want anything to do with her past for the rest of the day.

The remained silent for the next few hours as the late afternoon quickly drew into the evening. Newt thought long and hard about the slot, and apparently Penny had as well, because she spoke up with her own theories.

"Maybe i-it won't o-open if w-we can get to i-it," She wondered aloud, finger trailing up and down her scar as she spoke. Newt looked over at her, surprised that she and him were thinking about the same thing. "Y-you waited there a-almost all night l-last time, and it didn't come. Maybe w-whoever is doing it was w-waiting for y-you to fall asleep"

As much as Newt liked contradicting her and ticking her off, that scrunched up face she made whenever she was annoyed, freckles smudging together like… wait. Not the point. As much as he enjoyed ticking her off, he knew she had a point. The Box at the Glade wouldn't go back up until it was empty; maybe the same logistics worked behind the Slot.

Even with that figured out, he still couldn't shake the itching feeling that there was something he wasn't thinking about. No way could the Slot just disappear, it was impossible. Then again, Newt didn't doubt the seemingly magical and maybe even dangerous technology that WICKED got their hands on. Newt nodded in agreement, but didn't offer up anything else. He hated giving her the satisfaction of being right, even when he knew whole-heartedly that she was.

"We should still watch it," Newt advised, rubbing his chin as he thought. Newt checked the watch on his wrist and looked back at Penny. "It's night-time, the shanky Slot should be opening with breakfast in a couple of hours." Penny didn't reply. Newt rose from the bed and began walking over to the Slot to continue watch as he did the night before, but Penny shook her head.

"What're you doing, shuck head?" He asked, and she waved him off with a dismissive hand. "Don't g-give me no m-macho crap. I'll do w-watch tonight," She argued, plopping down in front of the door. Newt was annoyed with her, but was a bit relieved as well. She'd put up a mighty big fight in the bathroom earlier, and he was exhausted from the effort of holding her down. Not to mention he was a bit impressed at how she didn't even back down from him. Only a little bit impressed, though, he assured himself. A shuck-headed girl is a shuck-headed girl, through and through.

"Aren't you going to need your bloody beauty sleep?" He cracked the insult, but she didn't even turn around. "Just go to s-sleep, Danker"

Newt, a bit frustrated that she'd shaken off his insults so well, reluctantly laid in the bed and closed his eyes; definitely not wondering about the shuck-headed girl that he hated from minute one.


	5. Vocab Lessons Gone Awry

"So," Penny began, thinking for a moment. "A s-shuck is a s-stupid person?"

Newt, who sat across from Penny, shrugged. "Yes and no. Bloody use it for almost everything"

Newt awoke that morning to find Penny sitting in front of the door. He didn't think much of it until he realized that she had sat there, awake, all night. Again, he couldn't help but to feel a little impressed by this, but also annoyed. He'd fallen asleep, and she seemed fine? No way.

But sure enough, she was fine. "N-nothing. Absolutely nothing" She told him, turning around to face him. For someone who stood up all night, she looked pretty normal. The skin around her eyes held a grey-ish tint and her eyes lacked the usual glossiness, but she didn't seem as bad as Newt originally thought. She acted pretty normal as well, just a bit slower. Sluggishness seemed to weigh down every step and tail onto every stuttered word, but she went along as if this was normal.

Newt couldn't help but to think about her past. Whatever the Stranded was, maybe it had to do with why she seemed so fine after no sleep whatsoever? He tried to let the thoughts die down because he knew he'd never get answers from her. After her reaction the the file in the bathroom, he was in no rush to ask her anything.

Penny had a personal grudge with that slot. After sitting there for two hours, Newt asleep in a bed somewhere behind her, she was just about ready to punch her fist through the door and find out what it led to herself. She felt a bit bad for making fun of Newt when he had stood watch, but there was no way she would tell him that.

Newt was a confusion to Penny. Well, living people in general confused Penny, but Newt especially. The words he used were odd and his accent was something she'd never heard before. None of that mattered to Penny, really. Not as much as the familiarness that seemed to linger on him. That lingering feeling of familiarness happened a lot since she'd gotten out of the Field; even in the Field. Some things, she concluded from her memories that had gotten wiped, seemed awfully familiar. A frustrating sense of familiarity that couldn't be placed, driving her insane.

Why did she feel that with Newt?

She was pretty sure she couldn't stand him. Snippy, sarcastic, annoying, whatever insult she could muster seemed to fit with this dank. She hadn't trusted him, but after her ordeal last night, she wasn't too sure about that. He could've just walked away and let her beat her fists till her fingers broke, possibly even worse, but he didn't. This made her wonder about this 'Glade' he had come from and the people he was with. Not only that, but this made the feeling of familiarity even stronger. Still faint, but it had increased. What could this mean? So many questions about Newt, so many about WICKED, so many about their situation… Penny wanted to whack her head on the sink just for a few hours of quiet.

The two sat in silence after Penny reported the lack of Slot action before communicating their theories to one another. Being stuck with the other was upsetting, so they had no problems discussing ways for their forced roommate situation to end.

Their theory of the Slot only opening when it was out of reach to the two was proven right. They figured this anyways, but the night Penny spent staring was the solid evidence to check that theory off the list. They chatted about the possibilities of the Slot for awhile, but their conversation had eventually shaped into the vocab and slang they both used. How they got there, they had no idea; but they hadn't insulted each other once in the exchange.

"What's that thing you always call me? Danker?" Newt asked, a chuckle escaping his lips. Penny shook her head at this. She might've smiled, but her hair had covered her face, so Newt wasn't sure. Why he was even watching for it, he didn't even know. It had just happened.

"D-Danker is a w-word for moron, idiot, i-imbecile, so on," Penny answered, and Newt pondered this. "Kind of like shank"

"Who c-came up with all your w-words anyways?" Penny asked him, fidgeting a bit in her spot. Newt had sat on the pillow of his bunk, long legs criss-crossed underneath him to make room for Penny. Penny, being only five feet, sat with her legs outstretched. Her toes just barely missed his knees.

"Nobody in particular. I was one of the first shuck-heads to pop up in the Glade, so I guess they just bloody came up themselves"

Talking about the Glade made Newt homesick. Being homesick for the Glade was a scary thought, but it was mostly his fellow Gladers he missed. All those shuck-heads were his family, no matter how bloody stupid they could be. Originally, thinking about the Gladers only made him dislike Penny more, but she wasn't so bad. Sure, she was snarky and a bit of a know-it-all, but she had her guard down now. Now, sitting across from him, she didn't seem all too horrible. And that feeling, of course, made him paranoid. If they were stuck together in some experiment by WICKED, then maybe they wanted him to get used to her. Maybe Penny wasn't even who she said she was. Maybe she was a WICKED member disguised as a variable in some test just for Newt.

This theory starting to make sense was what scared Newt the most. Could she be a WICKED spy? Were the other Gladers in a similar experiment, different trial? If so, most of the Gladers probably had their tongue crammed down his Variables throat, but that's beside the point. As much as this sounded true, nobody could act as infuriated as Penny did when she saw the Stranded file.

His head was swimming from all the thinking, he almost didn't hear Penny speak.

"Tell me a-about the Gladers" The word 'Gladers' sounded awkward as she tested out Newt's lingo.

"Those shuck-heads? Not much to tell" Newt laughed, but Penny looked as serious as ever.

"Tell m-me about them, e-everything"  
So Newt did. He sucked in a big breath of air and started to talk about each Glader, dead or alive, as best as he could. He only intended to tell her about a few, not wanting to go on and on and make himself worry for them more, but losing himself in a conversation about his family was much easier than he had thought.

He told Penny about everyone. The part of him that thought Penny was a spy was waving a bunch of red flags and bells, telling him that explaining every single Glader to her was wrong, but Newt didn't care. Somehow talking about his family made him miss them less. Or at least not as intensely. Penny listened, not speaking a single word as she nodded along, fully in tune with Newt's words. Her face remained its usual indifference, but her eyes were much different. She was fully interested in what he was saying, hanging on to his every word. Almost wistfully.

"So…" Newt trailed off once he finished, his throat surprisingly dry from all his talking. "There you go. The finest shanks I've ever known"

Penny smiled at this. An actual smile, too, that lasted longer than one second. The scar's tip moved with her smile as her cheeks stretched. Newt must've been staring, because Penny cut off her smile and placed a hand on her chin.

"How'd you get that shanker?" He blurted out before he could think, not sure whether it was a grave mistake or a beneficial one.

Penny obviously didn't think of it as the latter.

Her face went completely stoic, even her eyes (which usually revealed her actual emotions), were un-readable. Her hand remained on her chin as if glued there, and Newt had a feeling she wouldn't be moving it for a long time.

The room fell silent. A deafening silence that almost made Newt anxious. Her yelling and screaming at him would be much better than the room being quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

"L-look!" Penny interrupted the silence with a shout, pointing at the door. Newt turned just in time to see the Slot close, leaving it's usual pieces of bread and… their request.

Atop a slice of bread were two single bandaids. Penny and Newt exchanged a look, forgetting about their earlier conversation and heading to the door skeptically. They stared at their bread as if waiting for it to explode, before Penny kneeled down and snatched the new supplies up.

"Did y-you write h-how many bandaids I n-needed?"  
Newt shook his head.

Penny's face drained of color. How had WICKED known? Her stomach twisted just thinking about it. After three years of being ignored, monitored by WICKED attendants but not hearing a single spoken word from anyone, and they're still spying? Penny had a violent urge to rip the place apart looking for cameras or microphones, but she knew WICKED all too well; they'd never hide a device somewhere where she could find it.

"Newt," Penny broke the silence, holding the bandaids in her hands like they were bombs.

"What?" he asked, but she didn't answer. Simply thrusting her hand closer to him so he could see the bandaids.

One bandaid read 'Tell him' and the other read 'About the Scar' in handwriting that he immediately recognized to belong to WICKED.

((Hey guys, Jaybirdy here. I'd like to thank everyone for reviewing and following, it means a lot and I hope you enjoy! Sooo... we have a few twists here! Their theory of the Slot was proven right, but what about Newt's theory that she's a WICKED spy? Hmmm, something to think about; as well as Penny recognizing Newt. Feel free to message me any questions or suggestions, I'd love to hear from you. AND REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!))


	6. Remembrance

"No!" Penny yelped, throwing the bandages on the floor in a fit of panic and anger. Newt's mind was running as fast as a Runner being chased by a Griever. The idea of being watched and monitored by WICKED wasn't new, not by a long shot, but WICKED had never been involved enough to give orders about what to do next.

"Is t-this a shanking t-trial?" Penny asked, slamming her fist on the door. Newt didn't have the heart to tell her she had misused the word. So many thoughts raced through his head, but he had no idea what to say. All suspicions aside, there was obviously something very important about the scar. Though he had practically discarded the theory, he still found himself wondering if her mentioning the scar could reveal that she wasn't who she said she was. Somehow, that theory always found its way to him. No way would he tell her that, though, not without actual proof.

During the first day, he would've been fine with her being a Variable, if it ended this annoying roommate-ship, but now he wasn't so sure. She was moody, yeah, but maybe she wasn't as bad as she came off as.

Penny crushed the bandages underneath her heel, grinding them into the ground with as much force as her body could muster. She turned and focused her stormy grey eyes on Newt, who almost couldn't look such an intense glare back in the eye. "I d-don't understand," she admitted, her tone coated with anger but impossibly small and tiny. Newt thought back to the Greenies; always confused and mopey for the first week and/or half before finally accepting their fate and getting into the workings of the Glade. Maybe Penny couldn't bring herself to accept the fact that WICKED played almost every part in her life, considering the malice and anger she shown for the organization. Newt didn't blame her, though, considering the idea was hard for him to swallow sometimes even after all this time.

"I'll be shucked, I can't figure it out earlier," He almost sounded sarcastic, but he definitely didn't intend it that way. Comforting someone, Penny of all people, wasn't at the top of his to-do list, but something in his chest told him that he should at least try. He rationalized that he didn't want her to do psycho and try to beat up an inanimate object again.

Penny felt sick to her stomach and her vision was slightly blurred. She focused on Newt's face, staring at him as focused as she could to keep herself from passing out. Still being WICKED's pawn… she hated it. She hated it almost as much as she hated the message on the bandages. She got that danking scar because of the creatures they pitted her up against… because of the Narcs.

She'll never forget that day. The relief that had flooded her panicked system with the force of a dam breaking, running towards what she didn't know to be a creation much beyond her imagination. The relief soon replaced by pain. Shock. Hair standing on end. Pain. Ripping. Pain.

Penny willed herself to vanish the images from her brain. She knew they would never go away, not ever, but she had mastered the art of keeping them at bay for a short period of time. Penny continued to train her focus on Newt, that strange feeling of familiarity buzzing in her stomach. The feeling brought annoyance into the anger she felt due to WICKED's helpful message. This feeling made her convinced that this was some kind of Trial, but she couldn't bring herself to tell him that. Telling him about the feeling would only freak him out, and she'd just started getting along with him. Being locked in a room with a guy who thought she was crazy didn't seem like a nice way to try and live.

Penny too, had thoughts about her own mental state.

Having false memories and visions wasn't new to Penny. WICKED made sure of that. Thinking of the Stranded only brought sharp arcs of pain in her stomach, a burning on the lining of the scar, and mental anguish. But she remembered every day so vividly, it was like her brain had a specific section just for torturing her. The memories had felt so real, the visions in front of her, putting her into a whole new place so real that she couldn't sense the falseness. Could Newt be something that felt so real? Could Newt be an illusion, tricked again by the vividness? This was the main reason she couldn't trust him. Her mind was in a volley with itself, though. He had touched her, she had touched him, so he was real. But who is to say WICKED hadn't upgraded their tech to trick her even better than they had before?

Now WICKED had the audacity to bring up something she had promised herself to never speak about. Her stomach flared with infuriation for the organization, desperately wanting to smash the heads of whoever decided the leave her in the Stranded. Her mind kept going back to the tattoo on the back of her shoulder blade. The block lettering etched onto her skin that destined her to three years of isolation because she couldn't be placed anywhere else. The brutal reminder that she didn't fit in anywhere, and she never will. Thinking about that made her vision run hazy.

Newt stepped away and thought for a second. Why was WICKED getting involved? Yeah, they monitored everything but they've never gotten as involved in this way. That was proof that this was a Trial… and the two obviously weren't coming up with the results that WICKED wanted. He almost understood this, considering they'd been around each other for about three days and they only knew a handful of things about each other. It made Newt sick that he was understanding something that WICKED was coming up with. He pushed the thought out of his head.

"Maybe the scar has something to do with this bloody room," Newt gestured to the room around them, arms wide. Penny's expression immediately snapped into a look of anger. "You k-kidding me? I'm d-done doing what t-those dankers want," Penny's voice was a raspy growl that almost scared Newt.

"Relax your panties," Newt snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. "Don't need you having a bloody breakdown again"

The second Newt said it, he knew he shouldn't have. "What d-did you just s-say to me?" She snapped, voice hard and eyes filled with anger. "Did I stutter?" He replied, Penny's glare only getting angrier. "You're a d-danker!" Penny snapped at him again, cheeks turning almost as red as her hair. "Not my fault you're so bloody sensitive" He muttered, but she didn't reply. The room fell quiet but he could practically feel the tension lingering in the air around them.

"I hate you!" Penny screamed, sharp words piercing the silence that had fallen over them. Newt was surprised with how shocked he felt, pushing the feeling away with a scoff. "Like I bloody care!" He snapped back, rolling his eyes at her. Penny balled her fists at her sides and cast her intense glare down at the floor.

"You're i-impossible!"  
"Says you!"  
"I hate y-you!"  
"That's been established!"

The two rallied back in forth before both huffing a breath in frustration, turning from each other and stomping away to bunks on opposite sides of the room that was beginning to feel like a prison. Newt fumed as he sat on his bunk, trying to think but not coming up with anything besides theories already established. He avoided looking at Penny, and she did the same until she fell asleep.

She slept for about twenty minutes, Newt happy for the silence, before she gasped and sat upright in her bed. Newt would've ignored her, but she obviously didn't care that they had fought earlier. She walked straight over to his bunk and grabbed him by the shoulders. Her eyes were wide and wild as if she'd been shocked with electricity. She stared straight into his eyes with an expression that Newt couldn't place, hands so tight on his shoulders that it began to hurt.

"What the blo-" He began to snap at her, but Penny cut him off with a snap.

"Are you real?" She screamed, voice void of stuttering. Newt looked at her with a bewildered expression, raising an eyebrow. "I-"

"Tell me!" her voice continued to raise in volume with each word, shaking him by the shoulders. "I don't know what you're bloody yapping about!" Newt screamed in reply, but nothing in her expression changed.

Then she did something he wouldn't have expected in a million years.

Penny grabbed him by the cheeks and kissed him. Her hands felt shaky against his face as she pulled him towards her, lips crashing upon his in one swift movement. Newt's brain froze, not a single thought entering his mind before she pulled back from him. He couldn't even think of how to react to this sudden outburst, the only thing he knew for sure was the odd feeling in his chest.

"What?" He blurted out, which he was sure made him sound like a shock stricken idiot, which he was at the moment.

"I remember y-you," She told him, voice barely above a whisper. "I remember you. I do, I do, I do"


	7. To Tell or Not, That is the Question

Newt was in shock. Penny had kissed him, but that wasn't nearly as shocking as what she had said.

"Remember what?" Newt asked, trying to remain cam. This whole situation was fishy, but now this? Newt had never seen this girl before this, what could she possibly remember him.

"I remember y-you!" Penny repeated, as if she couldn't believe it herself. Her hands remained firmly gripped on his shoulders, afraid that he'd vanish like the illusions the Narcs casted.

Penny had been sleeping when the false memories had come back to her.

She had dreams of the false memories often. Throughout her time in the Stranded, she spent the majority of her time daydreaming about her family and friends that were somewhere out there, the happy thoughts and feeling associated with them had kept her going through the seemingly endless Trial. But then the Trial ended, and she learned the truth. She learned that WICKED had used her loved ones, or lack thereof, against her. The dreams she'd had during the Stranded had become nightmares in the aftermath. She'd dreamt about the lies that were her Mother and Father, her siblings, her friends… all faces she'd seen in memories before.

But one appeared that hadn't been seen in a memory.

She dreamt of Newt. She dreamt of him and how she remembered him. Penny was nine hundred percent sure that he was not one of her memories in the Stranded, but the dream she had was of Newt. Newt and Penny before the Trials, and she had known him. It felt to real to be a dream. She knew this dream was of a memory that was real.

"Bloody hell are you talking about?" Newt snapped, pushing her off him. He was surprised at her words, to say the least. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Penny"

"I don't e-either! But I k-know you! Knew you, w-whatever" Penny paced back and forth, running her fingers through her hair like she was going crazy. "I knew s-something was familiar about y-you!" Penny continued to ramble to herself, Newt watching her in confused fascination.

"Penny," Newt stood up in front of her. She was pacing so much that she almost bashed into him, not watching where she was going. "Tell me what's going on."

So she did. Penny explained that she had gone to sleep and had the usual dreams of the fake memories WICKED had fed her, when things got weird. Penny explained how amidst the slideshow of her fake family and fake friends, Newt's face had appeared. The usual memories were a two second view of a false loved one, just their face, but Newt's was different. He laughed, smiling away like he didn't have a care in the world. His lips were moving but he was on mute, laughing as he spoke the silent words she couldn't hear. The Newt in her dream smiled at her, and everything came flooding back to Penny.

She knew him. She knew him. She knew him.

Newt listened to her ramble, barely keeping up with the fact paced words that had flown from her mouth. All of this was nonsense, but he couldn't help but feel something as she spoke. He couldn't describe the feeling, only that it hung heavy in his gut. Could she possibly be telling the truth? It seemed to far away, but the words she spoke were so sincere that he trusted them instantly.

"And s-so, I think I k-knew you. Before the T-Trails, I m-mean" Penny summed up, voice a bit slower and calmer than it had been before. Penny felt a bit silly for being so dramatic about it, but she couldn't help but feeling overjoyed. She was fed false memories that she fixated on for three years, only to find out they were fake and that she didn't have anyone in this world. Having an actual memory? She was too excited for words. She'd spent all her life, the parts she remembered anyways, feeling unwanted and alone. But she had a memory. A real memory, and she wasn't going to let that go.

Newt blinked at her, not sure what to think. "But you only saw me for six bloody seconds!" He protested, rubbing his temples. "It was probably just a stupid part of your dream. No connection"

Penny looked hurt, but quickly shook her head. "That's n-not all…" She whispered, locking eyes with Newt for a moment. He avoided her gaze, too freaked out by the idea. "What do you mean?"

"Seeing y-you in the memory sequence wasn't i-it. It triggered something. An a-actual memory from earlier t-times" Penny told him, hesitation in her voice. As much as she hated to admit it, she really cared about whether Newt believed her or not. Feelings of confusion, disbelief and warmth fought for dominance in her stomach, making her own standing on the sudden remembrance waver.

Newt blinked at her, unsure how to respond. He could tell just by looking at her that she wasn't lying, but that wasn't the problem. She had her memories wiped just as he did, so who is to say WICKED didn't plant more memories in her head? Everything that happened around them, every little thing, had to be thought out and always came up risky. It was giving Newt a headache and a stomach full of frustration.

"What did you see?" The question was short but possibly deadly. He didn't want to know, but he had to give her the benefit of the doubt. She seemed pretty excited at this revelation, after all. Penny sucked in another deep breath, which was a tell-tale sign that Newt was in for a stutter-filled rant. Not that he minded, his curiosity was at the brink.

"It's c-choppy, and I d-didn't hear anything, but we w-were young," Penny nodded, looking at him with concern. Newt nodded, encouraging her to continue. "We couldn't be o-older than twelve. W-we were sitting a-at this table and w-we both had f-folders in our laps"

So Penny went on and explained. Newt and Penny, presumably acquaintances with one another, were reading a file with the exact appearance of the one they received through the Slot. Each flipped through the mere contents of their folder before looking up at one another from across the table. Newt held up his folder reading 'The Maze' and Penny held up her's reading 'The Stranded'. They both nodded, mouths moving to presumably ask the other questions, but it was muted. That was all Penny saw before awakening.

Newt didn't know what to think. He wanted to be stunned, wanted to deny that it ever happened, but neither of those options felt right. Looking at her… he couldn't help but feel that she was right. Something was familiar about her, an itch in his brain he couldn't quite reach to scratch. It was a frustrating feeling: being so close to figuring something out but having some blockage in the way.

"Do y-you understand?" She asked, hesitantly reaching a hand out and placing it on his shoulder. Touching people after the Stranded was an odd, foreign feeling for Penny, but it started to feel, dare she think so, natural?

Everything about this was very weird.  
"And it's not a bloody fake?" He asked, eyebrows raised. He didn't know much about her past, but she had mentioned being given fake memories by WICKED before. Asking frightened him, but he knew he had to do it if he wanted to understand. Bracing himself for any reaction he might receive, Newt cleared his throat and began to speak.

"You need to tell me about your Trial"


	8. Latches

Newt had no idea what to expect. In the Glade, there never were any straightforward answers. Many of the things that had went on in the Glade were mysteries to the Gladers, the only comfort being their own theories. But this? There were way too many if ands and buts, way too many situations and turns for it to come out to one or two theories. Newt had killed Grievers, he had fought till he was near exhaustion, but he was certain that this was one of the most frustrating experiences he'd ever face in his life.

Penny looked even more unsure than him. She didn't even attempt to mask her emotions because it was pointless. What was that saying she heard before? Risk and reward? Well this was one huge risk with little to no reward. Her mind was racing with outcomes of this conversation, and none of them seemed to have a happy ending. This could all be one big set-up from WICKED, possibly mind controlling Newt to do something horrible. For all she knew, WICKED could be mind controlling her. She didn't feel anything going on in her head, but how was she to know? WICKED had the technology to leave a teenager in a never ending field for three years. They had the technology to put all those boys in a giant maze. They had the technology to install false memories into a teenager. They had the technology to create Grievers. Who knew what they had under their belt?

But they didn't seem to have much of a choice.

"We c-could not t-talk about it. WICKED o-obviously wants m-me to" Penny reasoned, voice more shaky than she wanted. The thought of talking about the Stranded, to another living person that held some unknown meaning to her, made her stomach feel sick. She felt a bit selfish, but she was entitled. After what she went through, she was in no rush for story-time. But then again, Newt had told her everything… and she definitely felt like she could start trusting him. It was a scary feeling but it also held some comfort to it, like falling but knowing a mattress was behind you.

"I'm in no rush to do any bloody thing those slintheads tell me, er, us," he said 'us' with caution, looking to Penny before continuing. "To do, but maybe it'll change something?" Newt didn't feel too sure, and that seemed to be rubbing off on Penny. "Change what? I d-don't like the s-sound of that"

"Neither do I, but we don't have a choice. I'm not rotting away in this bloody room" Newt tried not to sound impatient, but it was inevitable. He always had something to do around the Glade, numerous places to go and keep busy if needed. Being in the room, only a bathroom to go to and Penny to talk to, was making him antsy and bored. When you get bored, you start thinking. Free thinking wasn't very good for Newt, as he learned before, and thinking about their situation only made his head hurt and his heart ache for the Gladers.

Penny looked at him, really looked at him. He returned the gaze, not thinking anything for once in his life. The feeling of a clear mind was an odd one, but he found himself greeting it. Before he knew it, Penny's lips were on his again. Her lips were soft against his chapped ones, moving against one another upon pure instinct and possibly something more. Realizing what was happening, Newt pulled back from her with a flinch.

"What are we doing?" Newt blurted out, a hurt look flashing on Penny before she put on a look of indifference. "I d-don't know! Okay? I d-don't!" She protested, but Newt could hear the hurt in her voice. Why? They hated each other… right? He honestly had no idea what they were to each other, and that was both a good thing and a bad one.

"We can't just-" Newt trailed off, arms flailing. "Just do that! I d-don't, we don't-" Newt struggled for words. Minho and Thomas always mentioned how Newt was the most level headed one, but he definitely didn't feel level headed. He was confused beyond belief. The mess of theories in his brain, the fluttering feeling in his chest, the gut feeling that something was different… they all didn't mix very well.

"If you h-hated it so much t-then why'd you k-kiss me back?!" She yelled, hands landing on her hips in annoyance.

"I didn't!"  
"I f-felt you!"  
"No, I mean I didn't," Newt lowered his voice. "I didn't hate it"

Penny blinked at him before groaning. "You're impossible!"  
"This whole bloody situation is impossible!"  
Penny knew he was right. All of this, the shouting and protesting, was just her subconscious way of stalling. She knew she was being selfish and immature. Penny knew what she needed to do.

With a deep breath, she started to talk.  
"You had a m-maze, I had a field. I w-woke up there one day, and I-I didn't w-walk out t-till three years later"  
Her story continued and Newt paid close attention. There were some similarities between their experiments. He had the Box, she had a Tree. But the biggest difference was the population. There were nearly forty gladers, one every month, while Penny had no one. The title 'Stranded' was starting to make sense.  
It took a long while for her to finally finish, but it was time well spent. Penny was placed in a fileld that went on forever, literally. No matter which direction she ran in, no matter how long, there was no end. She eventually learned that the field was a six mile patch of land that repeated every six miles. You can run straight for twenty-four hours, but you'd only be running the same six miles. It was hard for Newt to wrap his head around it, but he listened intently.

"The w-whole point was to s-see how the s-subject," She said the word with the same amount of disgust as Newt did, "Would react to h-having memories of f-family and f-friends but being Stranded. That f-feeling, knowing I h-had people to go b-back to…" she paused, tears welling in her eyes. "It was meant t-to keep me g-going. And it d-did"

When Penny's story finally came to an end, Newt was speechless.

The Stranded went on for three years. Penny didn't speak for three years, causing her stutter once she did start speaking again. Like Grievers, Penny had Narcs. The Stranded's version of the Homestead was a small tent. Every night, Penny would wait in the tent, hands pressed to her ears, as Narcs would come by the tent. In a perfect voice, they'd imitate the calls of a loved one from Penny's memories. Her mother, father, siblings, friends… whoever Penny saw in the memories, the Narcs impersonated them. The temptation got worse every night, the temptation to run towards a loved one.

"That's h-how I got this," Penny motioned to the scar. "The f-first night, I h-heard my Mom call t-to me. I was s-so scared and lost, that I r-ran towards her. I saw her and w-was overjoyed, but w-when I hugged her…" Penny's voice failed her. She choked on a sob, tacing the scar up and down as Newt had seen her do many times before. "She was this creature. It tried t-to latch onto my chest w-where my heart is, b-but I moved t-too quickly" Penny motioned to the start of the scar at her chin. "It latched h-here and h-here," she motioned to the end, near her collar bone. "Sent s-some electric shocks up m-me, but I turned a-around. Ripped my skin"

Newt wasn't sure what was worse, Narcs or Gladers. When she first told him that she had memories of her life in the Stranded, Newt felt jealous. Now? he felt sick to his stomach.

Newt and the Gladers had eventually gotten out of the Maze once they figured out it was code. WICKED had given them hints, but WICKED wasn't very kind to Penny. She was given no hints. She eventually followed a Narc, nearly getting herself fried by the electric latches, and found her way to the HQ as Newt and the Gladers had similarly done.

"I h-had to follow but n-not touch," She swallowed a lump in her throat. "It was the h-hardest thing I've ever d-done. But I d-did it. I made m-my way back"

Penny paused again, and Newt was afraid she would break out into tears.  
"What happened next?" He asked, hesitantly placing a hand on her shoulder. She flinched, but accepted it. She took a deep breath before answering him, voice on the edge.  
"I found out," Penny pulled her shirt collar down slightly, revealing the black tattoo Newt had noticed when he accidentally walked in on her. The black letters, neat and spaced, labeled her.

**PENNY. PROPERTY OF WICKED. GROUP A SUBJECT A1. THE OUTLIER.**

Newt, as gentle as he could, reached forward and traced the letters with his fingers. He wanted to ask a question but nothing felt right to say. He didn't have to think too long, because Penny spoke up.

"They discontinued the Stranded six months in. And they left me there"  
This confused Newt, but he didn't know where to even begin with questions. Her voice, the stutterless words… it scared him. "Did you find your family?"

Her expression ran grim.

"I didn't have a family. It was all fake"  
_

Author's Note:

Sorry the writing for this was kinda sloppy toward the end, I got kind of lazy and such. Well there you have it, Penny's trial! If you have any questions about the Stranded experiment, let me know! I also apologize for the wait, I got busy! If you're a Walking Dead fan, check out my new fic. Also, to my Supernatural and Teen Wolf buddies, expect a one-shot soon!

-KS


	9. Starting Something

After her story un-folded, Newt could see why she didn't want to talk about her Trial. He had been through some pretty deep stuff in the Maze, but she had gone through all of that with no-one.

"I'm confused," Newt rubbed his temples as if that would suddenly make everything more clear. "What do ya bloody mean 'discontinued'?"

Penny visibly flinched. Just by looking at her, he could tell how drained she was. Her skin was much paler than usual and her eyes had dark grey circlets around them. Newt was worried that she'd go psycho again, beating him like she had beat the toilet days earlier. She seemed to be holding it together as best as she could, but who knew how long that would last?

"WICKED had t-three trials of t-the Stranded going o-on. Six m-months in, they d-deemed the r-results they w-were getting 'unsatisfactory'" She snapped 'unsatisfactory', great disgust fueled into the word. "So t-they pulled the subjects o-out, wiped their brains a-again, and p-put them in a b-better experiment," She paused. "But I am the o-outlier. They d-didn't have a-anywhere else to put m-me, so they l-left me there"

Newt knew that WICKED were a cruel, corrupt organization, but he never knew they were do anything as terrible as leaving someone there. He felt angry for some reason. Angry that WICKED had done that to her. Angry that WICKED had merely left her there to suffer, as if she was insignificant as an eraser speck. She wasn't the easiest person to be around, granted. She was a know-it-all and sarcastic, but she was also sweet when she wanted to be and a good listener if needed. Nobody deserved that, and it bothered him that WICKED had picked Penny of all people to do such a cruel act to.

"You're family-" Newt began, desperate to find a silver lining for her somewhere in this. He felt foolish for wanting a happy ending, because he knew good and well that happy endings didn't exist for people like them. But dammit, if someone deserved a happy ending, it was the Gladers and Penny. "What about your family?"

"I t-told you. I g-got to WICKED HQ and I l-learned the truth" Penny's fingers ghosted upon the scar over and over again, a almost mesmerizing motion that caught Newt's eye. "I don't h-have a family. I h-have the opposite. I am a-an orphan. The w-whole point of the Stranded w-was to see how subjects r-react to being i-implanted with f-fake memories"

Penny's voice sounded distant. Newt could tell that she was getting farther and farther away from a stable mental state, and talking about her Trial obviously wasn't making it any better for her. But still, curiosity had overcome him. He needed to know. The story had sucked him in and he needed to know what happened next. "I w-was brought h-here by the saviors. And I w-woke up in here the n-next morning"

Penny looked at Newt. She really looked at him. She placed a shaking hand upon his cheek, rubbing her thumb back and forth. Newt found himself leaning into her touch, letting his eyes slide closed in contentedness as he listened to her breathe. He had only known her for the few days that they have been stuck in here, but it was then in that moment that he felt he knew her forever. It was then that he had believed that they had known each other before the Trials, whether he had remembered it or not. He wanted to remember it. So badly, he ached to remember her before the Trials had torn at their stability. He wanted to hear Penny talk without stuttering, he wanted to see her smile without it vanishing seconds later, he wanted to hear her laugh an actual laugh.

They stood quiet for what felt like hours but was only minutes. They could've stayed like that forever, but the irritating sound of the Slot opening and closing stole the moment away from them.  
Penny moved her hand from his cheek and they both rose from their seats on the bed. Cautiously, they both strode over to the door. He could feel the tension in the air as they both looked at each other with confused glances. Whatever they were going to find couldn't possibly be good.

And it wasn't.

It was a single piece of paper at the foot of the door. Newt, hesitantly, leaned down on his knees and picked the paper up in his hands. He was surprised to find that his hands were shaking. He shook the feeling off as quickly as he could. He was the most level-headed Glader, and spending a few days with a girl wouldn't take that away. He flipped the paper over and was greeted with a sentence written in a handwriting he would recognize anywhere.

"What d-does it say?" Penny asked. Newt immediately folded it up and held it close to his chest. He didn't want her to see what it said. He didn't understand what it meant, but it obviously had something to do with her. "Nothing" He lied, and he knew she saw right through him, but he held it far away from him.

"Seriously Newt, w-what does it s-say?" She asked, reaching for the paper. Newt pulled back from her and continued to hold it tightly to him. Newt had seen many people go through the changing, and he was used to having to walk along glass to keep someone from going over the deep end again. Though Penny wasn't stung by a griever, he knew that this was a similar circumstance.

"Newt, give i-it to me" She reached for it again, this time snatching it right out of his hands. Newt reached for it back but her eyes were already upon the sentence. Newt watched in vain as her facial expression went from curious to completely distraught. She looked at him, grey eyes in shock.

"Why w-would they w-write this?" She asked, voice cracking into a sob. Penny dropped the paper to the ground and cupped her face in her hands, sobbing into her palms. Newt had been there to see Gladers cry, but this was much different. He was used to Gladers whining about how much they wanted to go home, but he'd never heard a more heart-breaking sob than Penny's. With the Gladers, he usually only offered a few words of advice and a gentle pat on the back. He had no idea what to do with Penny.

The only other girl he knew was Theresa, and even then he barely knew her. Penny, whatever she was to him, was something much more special to him. He had no idea what that meant, and it scared him.

"I'm sorry. I don't know" Newt placed a hand on Penny's back, awkwardly rubbing small circles in attempt to calm her down. She continued to sob, but he could hear the volume of her sobbing lessen. "What does the bloody note mean?"

Penny leaned her head on Newt's shoulder, removing her hands from her face and sniffling.

"I was s-so alone," She sucked in a deep breath. Newt continued to rub her back, not knowing what else to do. Girls were definitely different than guys, and he wasn't sure for better or for worse. "I didn't s-see a way for t-things to get better. I found a w-way out"

Newt looked at her in shock. Her words brought back the dark memories of when Newt tried to find a way out. How he climbed the thirty foot Maze Walls and tried to leave the world he lived in. He owed his life to Alby, who dragged him out of the Maze, kicking and screaming about how much he wanted to die. The memories made Newt feel numb, something he didn't want to think about under any circumstance.

Penny didn't have anyone to drag her out.

"I tried t-to drown m-myself b-but I couldn't f-figure out h-how to work the danking s-shower!" Penny cried out, kicking at the piece of paper at her feet.

Newt held her close, as close as he could without making both of them uncomfortable. He understood her way more than he cared to admit. He hated thinking about how low he felt, but he knew that Penny had felt that way too. They were alike yet so different at the same time, a refreshing feeling but a horrible one at the same time.

Newt pulled Penny away from him and held her by the shoulders. She looked at him with tear filled eyes, a sight he couldn't bare to see.

"Stop crying" He whispered, grip tightening on her shoulders.

"What?" She asked, confusion in her voice.  
"Stop crying" he repeated, and pulled her forward. Newt pressed his lips onto hers, kissing her as gently as he could. He had no idea what had come over him, but he didn't mind it. Neither did Penny. She kissed him back, lips slightly fidgety against his own as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Newt being so tall, she practically had to pull him down a few inches for her to kiss him. Newt pressed his lips onto hers more firmly and she responded with matching intensity, standing up on her tippy-toes atop the note that had given her such grief before.

**'You forgot the drowning part'** the note had read, a taunting message from WICKED about what their actions had driven Penny to do. But the two, messily pulling themselves closer to the other, was another action that WICKED had driven them to do. Maybe WICKED finally did something right, putting them together.


	10. Explanation

That night marked the first night that the two had slept soundly. There was the possibility that one would fall off, but they somehow managed to comfortably share the bed for the night. It took a lot of fidgeting and a bit of uncomfortable movements ("Your elbow is digging into my shoulder" "Get your hair out of my face!" "Your hand is on my butt" "That isn't a bloody accident, you know"), but they eventually fit together with her head on his chest and his arm around her.

Things seemed so much lighter. So much had happened in the past twenty-four hours that 'lighter' seemed impossible. The Slot, the notes, the stories, the tears, so on and so forth… but all the needed was hearing the rise and fall of the other's chest. As corny as that sounded, it was true. They had hated each other when they met, the forced meeting that it was. They were skeptical, they had theories about who the other was, and they argued. Theories that seemed so far-fetched when they looked at where they were now; almost funny.

It was a sad thought though, too. WICKED had put them through so much that they couldn't even enjoy what they were had until it was at the brink. Whether it was a Maze or a Field, Grievers or Narcs, fake memories or none at all… it was horrible. That, no matter how much torture they had received, didn't seem to matter much right now. Yes, their pasts would haunt them forever, but it seemed that maybe whatever future they had together wouldn't be too bad, as long as it included each other.

"Good morning," Newt mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He had no idea what time it was but he knew that they had slept in later than they usually had. Penny stirred beside him, yawning as she awoke from the first deep sleep she'd gotten in the time they spent in the room. "Your b-breath stinks in the morning" was Penny's reply, which earned her a laugh from the Glader.

"You only stuttered once, red" Newt announced in a proud voice, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Penny's face turned as red as her hair, giggling a giggle that she would definitely deny later. "Red? Gee, aren't y-you a g-genius"

"Don't pretend ya don't bloody love it"  
"You w-wish"  
"Playing hard to get, red?"  
Penny opened her mouth to reply, but she was interrupted with a noise that they both thought they would never hear.

The door opened.  
Not the slot, the door.

Penny jumped to her feet so abruptly that she kicked Newt in the crotch. Newt, overcome with the burning of his private parts, fell to the floor with numerous winces.

"Aren't you two very graceful?" A voice spoke, breaking the two roommates from their panic.

At the door was a man that immediately struck the two as a rat. His face was long and his nose was larger than any other feature on his face, especially his beady little eyes. He looked at them with a neutral expression, though his voice was riddled with amusement at the sight in front of him. Newt couldn't help feeling embarrassed, considering he was lying on the floor with his hand gripping his pants' crotch.  
Penny was the first person to speak up, her tone holding the same ferociousness it held when she yelled at Newt for the first time.

"Who a-are you?" She asked, swallowing a large lump in her throat. Her fists were clenched at her side and her jaw tightened, but Rat Man didn't find anything about her to be scary. If anything, her toughness only made him more amused.

"Penny Price, the one from the Stranded, yes?" Rat Man said more than asked, a small smile playing on his lips. Penny looked at him with anger, but something softened in her expression. "You know my name? My whole name?"

Newt, feeling like an idiot, forced himself to his feet. He stood protectively next to Penny, holding her forearm with his large hand. "Don't say anything, Red. I don't trust the bloody shank" Newt fueled his words with menace, but this didn't phase Rat Man. To him, these threats and angry tones were as scary as two toddlers threatening him.

"Ah, Newt from the Maze. The Glue, correct?"  
Newt squinted his eyes. He didn't want to talk to Rat Man, but his curiosity got the better of him. "Glue? What are you going on about?" Newt snapped, his own fist clenching at his sides.  
Rat Man didn't reply, he simply patted his own neck. "Not very good at observing things, are you?"  
Newt turned his head and felt around his neck, but there seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary. It was Penny who looked for him, and her face flushed pale.  
"You h-have a tattoo, Newt. L-like the one I-I have"

Newt didn't want to believe it. He craned his neck as far as it could go and didn't catch sight of any tattoo, but he trusted Penny. He knew she was right, which only made him angrier at Rat Man.  
"Are you the shank who has been leaving bloody bread for us?"  
Rat Man nodded, indifferent expression upon his face but amusement in his voice. "What was I supposed to do, let you starve?"

The amusement in his voice was only making Newt and Penny angrier. If their assumptions were correct, Rat Man had some affiliation with WICKED. WICKED had put them through hell and back, and Rat Man was treating it all as one big game, like ruining their lives was just a simple round of duck duck goose.

"Both of you need to calm your tempers," Rat Man clapped his hands together, sucking in a deep breath through his elongated nose. "I'm not here to fight you, and you don't really want to fight me. What you want is an explanation, correct?"

As much as they hated the man in front of him, the promise of an explanation was much too strong. Though they wanted nothing more than answers, neither got their hopes up. Their whole lives were manipulated and tweaked by WICKED, so they doubted there would be an honest heart-to-heart between them and anyone from WICKED.

Penny's expression softened from anger to curiosity. "Explanation?" She asked, and Newt could tell that this was something she had wanted for a very long time. He, too, wanted an explanation. Not just about why they were in the room, but why they had been picked for the Trials. Why he was thrown in the Maze and she the Field. He knew they were experiments of some kind, but why them? What was the process of choosing the victims, ultimately ruining their lives? And what was there to earn from it?

"Why did you lock us in here?" Was the next question from Penny, taking a step towards Rat Man. Newt tightened his grip on her arm and gently tugged her back. "I don't trust him" He repeated, not caring if Rat Man heard him or not. Rat Man raised an eyebrow at this, his beady eyes trailing to Newt's hand on Penny's arm. At this, his smiled, which made Penny's face feel hot.  
"Gotten close, have we?" Rat Man kept an obnoxious grin on his face which only made the two feel more embarrassed. Despite the hotness of his face, Newt didn't move his hand. If he was getting made fun of for wanting to protect her, then so be it. At least she was protected. "Put two hormonal teenagers in a room. Better not have gotten too close. These beds are made for sleeping only"

"Will ya get to the bloody explanation?" Newt snapped, trying to ignore the faint redness of his cheeks.  
Rat Man laughed, gesturing to the two in front of him. "Don't you understand? You are the explanation. For two quick thinkers, you sure aren't very smart"

"Explanation, now" Penny growled, her voice even scaring Newt. He held her arm a little bit tighter, though he would've liked to see her beat up Rat Man as she had the toilet.

"Look around you, look what you have become. Strangers to enemies to friends to lovers" Rat Man chuckled, as if he was getting to the punchline of the joke. "These stages of a relationship between two human beings do a lot for the brain, you know" Rat Man tapped his forehead as if they didn't know where his brain was.

"What are you getting at?" Newt asked. though the clenching of his chest told him the answer.

"It's simple. Put two teenagers in a room for a week and see what happens, then…." Rat Man paused, snapping his fingers. On cue, four heavily armored guards appeared in the doorway.

"Then see what happens when you separate them. Permanently"


End file.
